The Loch of Imagination

I like milling around the loch

The loch in mental scape as well

Air emanates out of water, northern

It gives off an odour, wild in nature

Methinks, it calms our restlessness

This exhales the air of detest

Seen the unholy activity!

Nature shelters lovelorn souls

Tear glides to the water; laments

Century-old loch witnessed wrong

Framed many bonds as well for ages

No biased look meted out to the poor

Its vastness, its cool appeal cures many

Burnt on the stake of love, perennially

Found solace here, down the ages

Unread pangs made its way heavy

Pillaged the sycophant with soft nothings

Overhead is our Cupid, Proteus

Muted eternal with the century weight

Sighs the gruntled, ignoring the straw…



Proteus means a sea god in Greek mythology. He is known for making prophecies but changed his form to avoid answering questions.